Hunters Don't Get Days Off
by DesolateDreamer
Summary: One shot. Sam and Dean are on a hunt at Christmas time. Hurt!Sam. Set in season 1 although completely separate from any events. Have a happy Christmas! Written for a secret santa on Deviant art.


Sam's vision is blurry. All he can make out is the colour of the ceiling, which is a dark brown since all there is up above him is floorboards. The back of his head is killing him, although thankfully not literally because then he knew his older brother actually would kill him.

He can still hear Dean a few feet away from him as he stumbles across the floor, trying to stay standing while he wields an iron poker prepared to use it on the spirit lurking around - the same spirit that had just thrown Sam ten feet across the room flat on his back.

There's also the sound of a radio in another room – presumably the kitchen, thanks to the spirit messing around with the electrical items.

"…and we'd just like to wish all of you folks, out there listening, a Merry Christmas." The words are just about made out over the crackling interference.

Sam's vision finally seems to start to clear as Dean rapidly reaches him. The room seems to be safe, for now.

"Come on, Sammy, we gotta find the ring." Says Dean as he grabs Sam's arm to help pull him back up.

With difficultly, Sam is standing again, however he almost falls over with a groan towards Dean, who drops the poker to grip Sam's shoulders trying to steady him.

"You good?" Dean asks, concerned.

Sam nods, putting a hand to the back of his head, but the false sense of security is quickly diminished. Behind Dean is the spirit of the old woman, Wendy Johnson, looking angrier than ever.

"Dean!" Sam quickly alerts him. However there is not enough time for Dean to pick the poker back from the floor and the spirit waves her hand to the side in the same motion that Dean's body flies across the room.

Sam dives down to the floor for the poker except blind spots appear and he falls. Wendy is almost instantly above him, turning him over so her fingers can find his throat so she can strangle him – the same way that her husband killed her.

Sam begins to think that he will never be able to breathe in any more oxygen. Was that really it? He was going to be strangled to death by some spirit to the sounds of the crackling radio playing Jingle Bell Rock?

The spirit's hand suddenly vanishes from his neck as a loud bang erupts through the house. Dean carries the gun in one hand as he bolts back over to his brother who's coughing and gasping for air. He helps him to his feet, Sam using the wall as extra guidance so Dean can stay alert in case the spirit is still hungry for more.

They manage to make their way into the bedroom where Sam, who is now holding the poker tightly in one hand, gets to the dressing table first and snatches the wedding ring they need to burn. He gives it to Dean who heads back out towards the living room where the fire place is so he can burn it. However standing in front of the fire is Wendy.

"Sorry, Lady, but your time's up." Dean growls just before he shoots rock salt through her chest.

He tosses the ring into the flickering flames of the open fire. A crash is heard from the bedroom.

"Sam." Dean legs it to the bedroom, furiously.

The poker just about misses his head when he kicks open the partly closed door. It hits the wall inches away and at least the spirit is gone. If only it didn't appear behind Sam. "Sam!" Dean yells.

Sam is too slow. Wendy quickly tries to get her fingers around his throat again but the fire is doing its work. Her hands slip through Sam's body as his whirls around just in time to see her melt away into the ground below.

She screams and it seems to echo before she disappears completely and this time the brothers know it's for good. Dean grins and slaps Sam on the back.

Taken by surprise Sam stumbles forward, clutching the back of his head from the fast movement. "Ow." He groans. "So much for a day off."

"Hunters don't get days off, Sammy." Dean replies, cheerfully. "Not even Christmas Day."

"Let's just get out of here." Sam mumbles, bitterly, although very glad Dean had his back.

* * *

><p><strong>Hey, everyone! This was just a short Christmas one-shot thing for a secret santa on a group on Deviant art. Hope you all had a groovy Christmas and have a happy new year :D<strong>


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